


For the Good of the Kingdom

by LeilaSRose



Category: Armello (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, horace is best badger, kingslayer victory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeilaSRose/pseuds/LeilaSRose
Summary: Horace is tired. Very tired. But when Armello needs him, he will fight nonetheless.





	For the Good of the Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAA I haven't written stuff in FOREVER! I'm soooooo rusty so please be kind ;w;

Only one thing crossed Horace’s mind as he stood across from the King: he was tired. For six days and nights, he had protected the deranged monarch from banes and “heroes” alike, in order to face the lion himself. Now, standing in front of the empty husk of his King, he was tired. So very tired.

 _The Iron Poet_. That was the nickname that followed him in the aftermath of the morning he had been betrayed by the Order of the Rose. It was true; after his removal from the royal guard as a result of his concern over the King’s health, he had taken up music and poetry to calm his mind. But his old comrades in the palace kept him informed of all the King’s affairs, and the more he heard, the more concerned he became. After Horace’s dismissal, the King’s behavior had continued to grow more and more erratic, eventually causing harm to the citizens of the kingdom of Armello that he had once cherished so deeply. As long as he remained loyal to his King and to Armello, Horace could not let that stand. The despot currently ruling Armello was not his King. As such, he had called upon a friend in the guard to see how he could serve his kingdom, and the King he had served with all his being.

It was midday when Horace met with Zale in secret at Blackrock Peaks.

“Salute!”

“Hail! I see the years have yet to change you, Iron Poet.” Zale, an older King’s Guard who somehow still remembered the old legend’s feats, gave a good natured salute to the badger.

“Haha!” Despite the instability of the kingdom and the weight in Horace’s heart, Zale’s good humor was contagious. “I see your humor has not changed all these years.”

This was a familiar exchange; in the many years that passed since Horace’s removal from the Guard, they had met in almost every tavern in every town in Armello. Often, Horace would simply write poetry or sing as Zale carried out the King’s increasingly ominous orders. The two were seen together so often that Horace, despite hailing from the Bandit Clan, retained his title as the Ninth Knight. He could go anywhere with relative ease without fear of being stopped or attacked by Guards.

“In such dire times, we are all in need of some laughter.” Zale’s voice lost its boisterous bounce. “Things are looking bleak, old friend. The King has been corrupted by the Rot, just as you feared. I have seen his madness for myself. Those creatures, the Banes… he summons them at night, and we Guards are left to clean them up for him in the morning.”

“Blast!” Horace cursed. He thought his Majesty had more time. “How long until the Rot overtakes him?”

“We give him ten days at most. Armello needs a new Monarch.” Zale shook his head. “There are few I would trust with this kingdom. You must do something. The clans are already warring over control of the settlements in their bids for the crown.”

“Yes, Scarlet mentioned that the clans were in motion.”

“I realize that she has your trust, but she does not have mine. Please, Horace. Your kingdom needs you.”

“What do you suggest I do? I doubt I will be able to curry favor with the King after all these years.”

“Surely you remember the light before the darkness. You must restore the King to his former self. We are under orders to seize all spirit stones, but we cannot all defeat you. Surely the Iron Poet can be the hero that saves the King.” Zale paused, gauging Horace’s reaction. “If you do this for your kingdom, you will be returned to the palace, your old home. You’ll have your old post returned to you.”

Horace paused for a moment. The idea of returning to serving the King, _his_ King, tempted him. But the wounds inflicted upon the land were deep enough that he wondered if a new King would be best for the kingdom. He told Zale as much.

Zale sighed and deflated a little. “What you say is true. And to be quite honest with you, I do not know if His Majesty would even survive a cleansing of that nature. But Armello needs you nonetheless.”

“Very well. I will see what I can do. Farewell! Dismissed.” And with that, Horace set out to collect spirit stones as quickly as he could.

When he heard of Fang’s infiltration of the castle, however, all of that went flying out the window. There was no way he would let that rabid mongrel kill the King, kill whatever was left of _his_ King. So two nights later, he made his way to the palace walls to stop the wolf.

“Beware, Fang. Don’t anger a knight.”

“Kill me or get out of my way,” snarled the rotted wolf.

So he did.

He hadn’t meant to break into the palace in the process.

When the haze of battle faded, he found that he’d unwittingly passed the dilapidated palace gates, once as grand and regal as their primary inhabitant had been, but now as broken as the lion’s soul.

“I take full responsibility.” He supposed he would have to stand his ground against his former comrades in arms. Hopefully their training remained as strict as it had been when he was a knight. Otherwise, they would fare poorly against him in combat.

He quickly perished the thought when he saw Barnaby’s lantern in the gateway behind him, opting to address the rabbit only if he failed to ascend to the throne in the morning.

That morning was the worst in Horace’s life, worse than the days following his departure from the Guard, worse even than the day the remainder of the Guard had turned against him and the Order of the Rose.

Four guards attacked him, only acting on the mad King’s orders. All of them were former friends and colleagues, and none found any pleasure in being forced to turn on one of their own.

Hoping against hope that they would read his movements, he countered each of their blows, but to his dismay, three of them fell limp at his feet.

And his heart sank and then soared at the sight of his old friend.

“Zale.” He trusted his old comrade, for they had sparred against each other many times across the years.

“Horace.” The cheer was absent from his dear friend’s voice. “As we practiced, then?”

“Of course.”

Sparks flew as bardiche clashed against halberd and badger and dog matched each other blow for blow. The direness of the situation gradually fell away as the fight crawled to a stalemate, and before they knew it they fell into the easy rhythm of a simple sparring match.

When the fight finished, Horace bowed to Zale, grateful that their mutual trust had paid off. “Done with grace.”

And so he faced the King, feeling very, very tired.

The fight was shorter than he had thought; Fang must have tried and failed to kill His Majesty first. The King, having been so weakened by the Rot, put up little resistance, and with one swing of his bardiche, the crown was his.

Solemnly, Zale took the crown off the dead lion’s head and placed it on top of Horace’s helmet. “Hail, King Horace!”

Horace pledged his fealty to the kingdom in a rushed coronation. “I’ll be a just and noble King.”

That night, he wept for his fallen comrades, for his King who would never return, and for Armello, the - _his_ \- broken kingdom.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love Armello; my boyfriend sucked me in and I'm absolutely hooked so when I played the most in-character game on Best Badger I just HAD to make it into a fic!! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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